


Fake It Till You Make It

by 74days



Series: Meet-Cute AU's [35]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Shopping Malls, Weiner Soldier, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/74days/pseuds/74days
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers has been on more failed blind dates than anyone he's ever even heard of - but he just can't say no to his  boss when he's set up on yet another.<br/>However, when his date arrives, Steve just knows it isn't going to work out - and they hatch a plan to stop their well meaning friends from interfering in their love lives!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fake It Till You Make It

“You said the last time was the last time.” Steve said, sitting in the small staffroom at the back of the store where he worked. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I remember you promising never to set me up again.” He pointed out.

Thor had the decency to look slightly abashed, before a huge smile split his face. “Ah, but Steven, this time I am  ** _sure_**.”

“You were sure last time.”

“And I am sure this time also.” He said, leaning back in the plastic chair and spreading his arms wide. He was about a million times larger than Steve, who had little bird bones and was stick thin no matter how much he ate, but never made Steve feel like a ‘little man’ like a few others did, automatically dismissing or overlooking him. Thor was a good friend, and it was only because Steve didn’t have a lot of good friends that he even agreed to the first blind date. He hadn’t expected Thor to take it as a personal mission to set him up with someone (anyone!) after that.

“A friend of Jane,” He was saying, and Steve liked Jane – she was only just shorter than him, and had been dating Thor almost since the moment she transferred into the Genius Bar in the Mall where they worked. Steve and Thor worked in Outdoor Supply, a camping slash anything outdoorsy store. Thor was the manager and Steve his 2nd in command, and they had a great friendship that Steve wouldn’t like to lose. “Has told her of a single friend of hers.” He grinned. “He too, works in the mall, in the food court.”

“Right.” Steve nodded. “And this will be the last time, right?”

“You have my word.” Thor lied.

 

* * *

 

“He works in Outdoor Supply on the top floor.” Bruce was saying. He didn’t actually work in Wiener Soldier – a depressingly named hot-dog vendor in the food court – but over in ‘Big Green’ which sold organic juices made to order. He always smelt of zesty orange rind – Bucky stunk of hot-dog water and sadness. His uniform was a pair of camo-look pants and a moss green t-shirt with a fake tactical vest printed on the front. Seriously.

“I’m pretty sure you promised me that the last time you set me up would also be the last time you set me up.” Bucky pointed out. “I’ve been on more dates this year than I have in my whole life added together, and its only March.”

Bruce looked conflicted. Bruce mostly looked conflicted, so that wasn’t anything new. “Tony has a friend at the Genius Bar,” he said, and Bucky held up his hands in horror.

“No!” He argued. “I’m stopping you right there. Firstly, we both agreed Tony was no longer allowed to set me up at all. Ever. And secondly, I know for a fact that Tony doesn't have any friends.”

“Tony works with Jane, who is dating Thor, who works with the guy we think you should meet.”

“Have you met him?”

“Not personally,” Bruce said, but held up his hands to cut Bucky off, “But I’ve met Jane and she is  ** _lovely_**.”

 

* * *

 

Despite having gone on about 5 million dates in the last three months, Steve still got nervous before he met someone new. The bar was where most of the mall workers went at the weekends, or after a rough day – so Steve knew that it was a nice neutral place for a first date. He knew next to nothing about the guy he was due to meet, aside from he worked at Wiener Soldier. That really wasn’t enough to go on.

The bar was pretty quiet – it wasn’t really the kind of place where you  ** _wanted_**  to spend your Friday night after work. Steve gave a cursory glance around, and didn’t see anyone who looked like they worked at the mall (they all had a look, the vacant eyed gaze of mindless drones) and made his way to the bar.

“Evening, Stevie.” Clint said, grinning like he always did. Clint knew most folks that worked at the mall because he ran the closest bar, but he did remember names and drinks orders despite the turnover of most of the units. “Another date?”

“Yup.” Steve sighed, climbing up into the barstool. He looked far too young to drink, but Clint never carded him – which made a difference to every other place he’d ever gone.

“Man, this is the 12th date you’ve had this year.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” Steve shot back, adding his thanks when Clint slid a bottle of beer forward, wedge of lime in the neck.

“Hey, maybe this time you’ll click.” Clint said, going back to wiping down the bar. “If he’s a total creeper, order a rum and coke an I’ll make up an emergency phone call for ya.”

Steve nodded, and sent thanks up to the heavens that Clint Barton was a good guy who could be relied on for those awkward moments.

 

* * *

 

Bucky walked into the bar and blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. He liked Clint’s Bar. It was close enough to the mall to be useful for after work drinks, and cheap enough for most of them to actually afford it. “Hey Buck.” Clint greeted him; already going for the brand of beer Bucky liked best, a wedge of lime in the neck. “Not seen you in a couple weeks.”

“Rent due, man.” Bucky complained, sitting on a stool. A few seats away was a skinny kid nursing a fresh beer, eyes flicking to the door every time it opened. “You know how it is.” It wasn’t like Clint to serve minors in his bar – and he imagined that the fake ID must have been amazing to get past his eye.

“Sure do.” Clint agreed. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Got a date.”  He sighed. “Friend of a friend I don’t want to get on the bad side of.” He didn’t miss the way Clint’s eyes snapped over to the kid a few seats away.

“Ah, you’ll be here to meet Steve then.” Clint said, nodding his head towards the kid. “He’s got even worse luck than you, it might actually work out between you both.”

Bucky looked at the kid and blinked. “Aw hell no!” He hissed. “He’s just outta high school.”

“He’s also not deaf.” The kid shot back, eyes not leaving his beer, and Bucky swallowed. “No offence, Clint.”

“None taken dude, none taken.”

“Aww shit.”

 

* * *

 

Steve wanted to leave. The guy that came in looked hot, but not the kind of hot Steve liked. He was overly masculine and too tall, and looked like he’d be on first name terms with everyone at his gym. Add to the mix that he obviously wasn’t his type either – too young looking, apparently. Steve took a swig of his beer and swallowed. Some of his dates thought that was hot, a younger looking guy, even if he wasn’t that young.

“Hi,” The guy said, sitting in the stool on his left. “Uh, sorry about that. Bucky Barnes.”

“S’fine.” Steve said, not taking his eyes from his beer. “Steve Rogers.”

“You work at Outdoor Supply, right?” Bucky asked, obviously trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Knowing already that the date wasn’t going to lead to anything more than a couple of awkward drinks before they made their excuses and left, Steve nodded.

“Yeah. Look, I know this is a waste of time, okay?” He said, looking up at Bucky. He hated looking up at people, and Bucky probably had a foot at least on him, and 150lbs. “Can we just tell people it didn’t work out and leave it at that? You aint my type, I sure as hell aint  ** _your_**  type – it’s just stupid to sit here and pretend for an hour.”

“I aint your type?” Bucky said, looking offended. “And you don’t know what the hell I like.”

Steve sighed. “Look, this is the 12th date I’ve been on this year. My friends think they’re helping. I don’t wanna waste your time, that’s all. If you want to sit here and sip a beer awkwardly for an hour or something, I’m not going to stop you, but we both know it’s not going anywhere.”

 

* * *

 

Little shit was right, Bucky realised. There was no way on hells earth that they were going to be compatible – he was too small, too thin, too fucking bossy – and the whole thing was already a bust. “Fair enough.” He managed. “12 dates?”

“Pretty much every Friday since New Year’s.” Steve said, taking another swig.

“Shit, man.” Bucky said, grabbing his own beer. “That’s worse than me – you’re number 9.”

“You know what I want?”

“What?”

“To spend Friday night in my own apartment, a beer, some pizza, and maybe some Halo – without feeling like I’m letting everyone down. Thor looks at me like I’m some lost puppy sometimes, and you can’t say no to him.”

“Bruce is the same. He looks so disappointed if you say no.” He took a swig. “I don’t even want a fucking boyfriend,” He admitted. “I just wanna spend my days off sleeping, not stinking of fucking hot-dogs, maybe catch up on Netflix.”

“No one listens.” Steve agreed, and suddenly both of their beers were empty.

And soon the front of the bar was littered with empties.

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Bucky was slurring, picking at the nuts on the counter. “You know what sucks?”

“Hmm?” Steve mumbled. His vision was swimming. He couldn’t remember if he’d taken his contacts out or not. He didn’t think so, which meant he was  ** _wasted_**.

“I don’t wanna tell Bruce that he’s pissin me off, man, I aint got that many friends here, but I want him to stop setting me up.”

“Same.” Steve agreed. “Thor’s my boss. How pathetic is that? He’s my  ** _boss_**  and he’s my only friend.”

“Shit, that’s rough, man.” Bucky agreed. “But I work at ‘Wiener Soldier’, you can’t beat that.”

Steve snorted a laugh. “I sold a tent to man yesterday, who came back today to tell me,” he hiccupped. “To tell me that it was broken. Because it didn’t look like the picture on the bag when he took it out.” He took another drink of beer. “He didn’t know he’d have to set it up. I had to give him a refund.”

“Wiener. Soldier.”

Steve laughed again. “You get free food though, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grimaced. “All the wieners you can eat. After a week, you end up throwing up round the back and vowing never to touch another hot-dog as long as you live.” He paused. “I get a free drink from Bruce at Big Green though, most days.” He paused, and swayed slightly on his stool. “You know what I need?”

“Wha?” Steve managed. His head was spinning. He was a total lightweight at the best of times, and he’d already drank more than he should have.

“A boyfriend.”

“You said…” Steve tried, and blinked. “You said you didn’t wan a boyfriend.”

“I don’t!” Bucky grinned, white teeth shining. “I need a fake one.”

Steve blinked. “Tha… thas…” He swallowed. “Thas a  ** _genius_**  plan.”

 

* * *

 

Steve’s hangover was killing him. He had to open up the unit on Saturdays, and he’d not expected to stay up all night drinking with his date gone wrong. By the time Thor arrived, looking like a ray of sunshine, Steve felt like he was going to pass out.

“Ah, Steven!” The larger man said, bounding into the unit. “You look like death.”

“Thanks.” He managed, before dropping his head onto the counter. “Just what I wanted to hear.” Thor laughed at him, which wasn’t comforting at all, considering just how loud Thor’s laugh was.

“Go to Big Green,” The large blond said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Ask the vendor for a hangover cure,” He advised. “It has saved me many a day, I will hold down the store until you return.”

Steve nodded, and made his way down to the lower floor. The food court was huge, made up of about 20 different units and a handful of kiosks. Early in the morning it was mostly quiet, but by lunch it was impossible to get a seat – no matter where you bought. Big Green was a kiosk that had, at most, 2 people working it. Steve liked it, but he didn’t like to spend $9 on a drink when he could get that and a meal at one of the fast food places.

However, he knew Thor swore by their stuff, and going on the amount his manager could drink on a night out, he was probably right.

The guy sitting behind the counter was wearing a soft purple shirt that looked a little rumpled, with dark hair that curled messily around his head like a halo. When Steve approached, he sat up a little straighter and smiled. He had a really welcoming smile, Steve noticed. “Uh, hi.” He said, looking at the ‘menu’ which was mostly a list of fruit and not much else. “Thor sent me to ask for a hangover cure?”

The guy nodded and got to his feet. “You’re Steve, right? Work up at the camping place on the top floor?” He said, grabbing a random assortment of fruits and throwing them whole into a massive juicer.

“Uh, yeah.” Steve said. “Sorry, heads… terrible this morning.”

The man laughed. “I don’t doubt it. Bucky sometimes forgets that not everyone can drink like he does.” He paused. “But this should help.” He started cutting grass (grass?) into the juicer, “A couple of vitamin boosts and you’ll be right as rain.”

It took Steve a few moments to realise that this must be Bruce, the guy that Bucky had mentioned the night before. He could vaguely remember a conversation about him.

“You must be Bruce?” He hedged, and got a nod in return. “Sorry, I’m not normally so…”

“Hungover?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve all been there.” Bruce shrugged, before adding a couple of dark green shots of… something… into two plastic cups. “Best hangover cure this side of Cuba,” He said, handing one over. “Trust me on that.”

“How much?” Steve asked, taking a sip. It tasted… green. Really, there wasn’t any other way of describing it. Green. Healthy, a bit tangy, but mostly, just green.

“It’s on the house.” Bruce said, waving away Steve’s wallet. Steve knew from previous trips to the juice bar that the concoction in his hand wasn’t cheap, dropped a $10 note into the tip jar instead. If it worked, it was worth every cent. “Uh, why don’t you take this one over to Bucky? He looks just as bad as you.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s head was pounding, and he’d already been ambushed by Bruce in a very friendly, non-aggressive way – to find out how his date had gone. Somewhere in his garbled answer, he thinks he may have said that they were going on another date – anything to stop Bruce from trying to set him up again. So when he saw Steve, tiny, short, so not his type Steve, walking towards him looking like shit, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cheer or hide.

“Hey.” He managed. The smell of the grill was making him feel sick already, he wasn’t looking forward to a whole shift of that.

“Um, Bruce told me to give you this.” Steve said, once he’d had a good look around the unit. In his hand was one of Bruce’s patented Hangover Cures, and Bucky sagged with relief at the sight of it.

“Thanks.” He managed, taking it from the smaller man. He looked at Steve, with his pale skin looking more sickly than it had the night before. “I really shouldn’t have drunk so much on a work night.” He pointed out, “Sorry for dragging you down with me.”

The smaller man just shrugged. “I didn’t have to drink if I didn’t want to.” He grimaced, and took another sip. “Regretting it now though.” He sighed. “Anyway, gotta get back to work.”

“Yeah.” Bucky said, nodding as Steve lifted his juice in a salute and walked off.

 

By lunch, the jungle drums in the mall were beating. Steve Rogers in Outdoor Supply was dating Bucky Barnes down at Wiener Soldier. They’d gone out for drinks and the next morning Steve had gone down to say ‘morning’ and have a smoothie together.

 

* * *

 

Steve was sweeping down the shop floor when someone tapped on the glass doors, locked to customers. He glanced up, ready to point to the ‘closed’ sign, when he saw Bucky. He looked less pale than he had in the morning – Steve would have to remember that those juice things really worked.

Propping the broom on the serving counter, he unlocked the door. “Hey,” He said, but was cut off with Bucky hissing:

“Everyone thinks we’re dating!”

Steve’s reply was instant and firm. “No they don’t.” He said.

“Dude, I’m not kidding. Tony from Hardware came down to the food court just before closing to ask if I was gonna be going out with ‘my new boy’ tonight, and Jane at the Genius Bar dropped by to say that it was great that we’d found one another.”

Steve blinked. Thor’s smiling face all day hadn’t seemed too out of place, but he certainly had been more hearty than normal. “I didn’t say anything.” Steve said, defensively. “I already told you it wasn’t going to work out.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky waved him off, which Steve found annoying. “But… man, I know I was drunk last night, but the whole fake boyfriend thing would work. Everyone already thinks we’re dating. We could just let them think it’s true – no more stupid blind dates.”

“This isn’t a romantic comedy,” Steve pointed out. “I’m not going to lie to my friends.”

“It’s not a lie.” Bucky said, leaning against the door jam. “Think of it as just… not correcting their assumptions. I can’t go on another date, dude.”

Of course, it would be that point that Thor would come out of the back room, and see Bucky standing at the door. “Ah!” He said, too loud in the empty store. “This must be Bucky.”

“Uh,” Steve started, only to be talked over by Bucky.

“Hey, man.” He grinned, pushing his body off the jam and walking towards Thor, hand out. “You must be Thor, right? Steve told me all about you.” He grinned. “Dating Jane at the Genius Bar?”

Thor beamed, taking Bucky’s hand and clasping him firmly on the back. Steve knew that Thor often forgot his own strength and Bucky’s wince when Thor’s hand connected with his shoulder gave Steve an irrational burst of satisfaction.

“I am!” The blond man beamed. “Are you here to ask Steven or another date so soon?”

Bucky paused only for a moment. “You bet.” He nodded. “How’s about it Stevie?”

“Sure.” Steve ground out, and received two beaming smiles in return.

 

* * *

 

Bucky knew that Steve was pissed, but the whole thing was perfect – as soon as he worked that out, they’d be just fine. “Look, it’s not a real date,” He was explaining. “We just gotta tell people that we hung out.” It made perfect sense.

“I don’t like lying to my friends.”

“I bet you like more blind dates less.” He pointed out, and saw the play of conflicting expressions over Steve’s face. “Look, all I want is to go home, throw myself on the couch in a pair of sweatpants and not move till Monday morning. I bet you want to do the same.”

Steve nodded after a few breaths. “Yeah.”

“So, all we gotta do is say we had pizza, watched a movie… you know?”

“Yeah… okay.”

“Awesome!” He grinned, fishing in his pocket for his phone. “Look, I’ll text you later, yeah? Go over what we ate and what movie we watched.” He grinned, “This is the  ** _best_**  idea I’ve ever had.”

 

* * *

 

“We just had pizza and watched ‘Catch Me If You Can’.” Steve lied. In reality, he’d made himself some pasta, played Halo for almost 6 straight hours and slept for 12. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

 

* * *

 

 ** _Bucky_** : How do you feel about the movies?

 ** _Steve_** : What movie?

 ** _Bucky_** : I mean, going to the movies, punk, for a date

 ** _Steve_** : I guess. I’ve not seen anything that is out right now though

 ** _Bucky_** : damn. Okay – what about Insurgent? It’s showing at 8 tonight.

 ** _Steve_** : I thought the whole reason for this was so we could spend time not going out?

 ** _Bucky_** : You don’t have to

 ** _Steve_** : I’ll meet you there.

 

* * *

 

Bucky actually kind of enjoyed the movie – he enjoyed the fact that he could wear his old jeans and just throw on his well-worn leather jacket, tie his hair back and not think about what he looked like. He also liked the fact that Steve had done exactly the same – he was wearing an old looking hoodie and jeans.

The movie was alright, nothing spectacular, but because he wasn’t trying to impress Steve, he didn’t feel the need to act like he loved it, or hated it.

“I mean, it was okay, but I dunno, not feeling it.” He’d said, and Steve shrugged in reply.

“It wasn’t terrible.”

“Yeah, that’s a joint review of ‘meh’ from both of us if the best thing you can say is ‘it wasn’t terrible’ Stevie.” Bucky laughed, and Steve grinned up at him lightning fast. He had a nice smile, Bucky noticed. Shame he wasn’t his type.

 

* * *

 

“I saw you and Bucky at the movies last night,” Jane said, popping in before Thor’s lunch break. “The girls and I were going to say hi, but you looked pretty cozy so we left you to it.” She looked pretty pleased to say it, and Steve nodded.

“Uh, yeah, we went to see Insurgent.” He added. “Not really our thing.”

Her laugh was warm. “You looked really cute together.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. They’d actually gotten along really well. It was a shame Bucky wasn’t really his type.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t see why we have to do this.” Steve was pointing out, and Bucky had already gotten used to Steve dragging his feet through their pretend relationship, so he just grinned.

“Couples have pictures of them doing couple things.”

“You aint taking no sexy pictures of me,” Steve said, pulling back from where Bucky had him tucked under his arm, before they both dissolved into laughter. “I don’t see why we needed to do this  ** _now_**  though.” Steve complained. “I mean, we could have waited till work. I was planning on sleeping till noon.”

“Yeah, lets take pictures of us at work, where people we work with will know we took em at work.” Bucky said, rolling his eyes and pulling Steve back closer. “And fuck off, everyone loves to zoo, man.”

“It smells.”

“ ** _You_**  smell, punk.”

“Screw you, you jerk!”

 

* * *

 

 ** _Bucky_** : What you doing?

 ** _Steve_** : playing halo, you?

 ** _Bucky_** : ducking bored man.

 ** _Bucky_** : fucking, even. Pizza?

 ** _Steve_** : I’m not leaving this couch

 ** _Bucky_** : I’ll come to you, you lazy asshole

 ** _Steve_** : No mushrooms

 ** _Bucky_** : freak.

 ** _Bucky_** : I’ll be over in 10

 

* * *

 

Steve slid into one of the little barstools that were lined up alongside the Wiener Soldier counter, and waited for Bucky to stop serving the gaggle of teenage girls who were more interested in Bucky than the menu. Steve wasn’t 100% sure why – the t-shirt with its printed transfer of a utility vest did absolutely nothing for Bucky – when he wore his old navy blue band tee you could almost see the play of muscles as he moved – the soft cotton clinging in mouth-watering ways. Nothing at all like the horrible thing he had to wear at work. The cargo pants were a fucking disgrace, completely hiding a butt that looked like it was carved from marble. Not that Bucky was Steve’s type.

“Hey, man,” Bucky said, once the girls had their (‘omg, Sarah, you totally said wiener to him like 5 times!’) food. “I swear to god there is nothing worse than getting hit on by girls in high school.” Bucky complained, grabbing a bun and sausage from the rack, loading it up just the way Steve liked. “They just don’t get that they look about 13, and I’m a grown ass man.”

“A grown ass man working at a Wiener Soldier.” Steve pointed out, holding out his hand for the food.

“The  ** _manager_**  of a Wiener Soldier, punk.” Bucky shot back, handing over Steve’s lunch. “I don’t even know how you can eat that. Every day for two months. It’s gross.”

“You underestimate my tolerance for free food.” Steve grinned around a mouthful of hotdog. “You comin’ over to mine tonight?”

“Yea-”

“Hey Buck!” A voice cut over Bucky’s reply. Steve felt his shoulders slump in response, even as he turned to face the man who had interrupted.

Tony Stark was the son of the guy that owned the mall – although he probably had a job title – apparently he worked in Hardware but he mostly he just hung around the different units getting in the way.

“Tony.” Bucky sighed, not sounding happy to see the young man either. “Steve and I were just making plans for tonight.”

“Cancel em!” Tony waved. “Party at mine. Starts at 8, be there or… shit, just be there!”

“I don’t wanna.” Steve said, as Tony swaggered off to talk to Bruce. For some reason, the two of them got on great – probably because Tony spent a fortune on the ‘Hangover Cures’ sold at the kiosk. “I really don’t wanna.”

“How about we go for 9, leave at 10, grab a couple of beers on the way back to mine and watch Netflix all night?”

“I’m gonna have to get dressed up.” Steve complained. “I hate that.”

Bucky snorted, and Steve reminded himself quite firmly, that Bucky wasn’t his type.

 

* * *

 

Steve in skinny jeans was not something Bucky was prepared for. He certainly wasn’t prepared for Steve in bright  ** _red_**  skinny jeans and a tight fitting navy shirt. Jesus Christ, he looked like king of the fucking twinks, and Bucky took a deep breath before making his way over to him.  “Hey, man.” He managed, grateful for the beer in his hand that he could take a swig of to beat his suddenly dry throat. “I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and Bucky wasn’t sure if they had always been quite so blue, before he shook himself a little. Steve wasn’t his type. Steve was his fake boyfriend.  ** _Fake_**.

“Yeah, it was a close thing.” Steve shot back, grinning. Bucky found himself smiling back, because Steve  ** _did_**  have a great smile, when you saw it. It lit up his whole face, and him seem younger and more approachable than normal. But not Bucky’s type.

However, as the party went on, it turned out that Steve was a  ** _lot_**  of people’s type – and a lot of people were more than happy to offer to get him drinks, or ask him to dance, or completely overlook Bucky standing at his side. “Your boyfriend is getting hit on again.” Natasha, who worked at the Gap and was rumoured to have killed her last three boyfriends (something she never actually denied if asked) and who was the only person who hadn’t tried to flirt with Steve yet. Yet, he assumed, because every other fucker in the room had given it a shot.

“Jesus Christ.” He whined, grabbing the first two bottles of beer he could and stalking back over to his oblivious boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. “Got you a beer, Stevie.” He said, thrusting the bottle at the smaller man, and looking over the latest arrival with a cool stare. “Hi.”

“Oh, Brock – this is my boyfriend Bucky.” Steve said, taking the beer bottle and wrapping his arm around Bucky’s waist. Steve wasn’t one for hugging much, it was always Bucky who threw a casual arm around his skinny shoulders, and he found he really fucking liked the feeling. “Bucky, Brock works at ‘Tone & Tite’ on the 2nd floor.” Steve was saying, pressing every closer, and Bucky either had the option of falling over, or wrapping his free arm around Steve too.

“Yeah?” He said, looking Brock up and down. He was pretty stacked, the guys who worked in those stores usually were – ‘legal steroids’ and every kind of bulking agent known to man or beast helped – and he had a predatory glint in his eye.

“Yeah.” He said, flexing so hard Bucky wondered if his shirt was going to give out. “How long you guys been dating?”

“Two months.” They said in unison, causing Steve to laugh and smile up at Bucky.

Oh shit.

 

* * *

 

Oh, Shit.

Steve looked up at Bucky, laughter bubbling up because they were both such fucking nerds, talking at the same time like a sitcom or something, and Bucky grinning down at him, and…

All Steve wanted to do was kiss him.

Which was really not awesome. Because the whole point of a fake boyfriend was… Steve blinked. What was the whole point of this stupid fake boyfriend thing anyway?

 

* * *

 

Stay at home and watch Netflix, Bucky reminded himself. That’s what this while shit storm was about. He wanted to stay at home and watch TV rather than be set up on endless dates with people he didn’t want to date. Steve was the convenient, similarly motivated person who had gone along with the whole thing.

It was not cool to want to fuck his brains out on Tony Starks pool table.

 

* * *

 

When was the last time Steve had spent the night on the couch playing halo? He couldn’t really remember – two months of fake dating actually looked a lot like 2 months of dating, really.

When you thought about it.

That was why he was getting confused. Bucky wasn’t his type. Too muscular. Too big. Too… Jesus… too…

 

* * *

 

Too fucking short. Skinny enough that Bucky would be able to lift him up by his ass and pound him through a fucking wall if he wanted. Which wasn’t what he wanted. Not at all. Nope. He was just… drunk. Probably. He’d had a couple of beers.

 

* * *

 

“Okaaaay,” Brock said, stepping away. “You guys should probably get a room before the eye fucking becomes  ** _actual_**  fucking,” He said, “Just sayin’.”

Steve blinked. “Uh, yeah.” He could actually feel Bucky’s back muscles under his palm bunch and move as the other man switched his stance. God, that was hotter than it had any right to be. Steve shouldn’t have noticed… Bucky wasn’t his type…

“Good idea, man,” He grinned. “How’d you feel about getting out of here, Stevie?”

Steve nodded. He needed to get out of the crowd, get some fresh air – unwrap himself from his fake boyfriend. Get himself outside – remind himself that the whole thing was fake. Made-up. Not true.

That the feel of Bucky’s arm around his shoulder was just a friendly, dude helping out another dude thing. Bucky wasn’t his  ** _actual_**  boyfriend.

The cool night air was nice of his too hot skin, he was pretty sure he was blushing beat red – his sudden and unexpected realisation that maybe Bucky  ** _was_**  his type probably written all over his face. He felt so  ** _stupid_**. Trust him to go and fall for the one guy who had made it more than clear that Steve was not his type, the one guy who had made it clear from the start that the whole thing was a sham. Trust Steve to end up falling for  ** _that_**.

 

* * *

 

Bucky was a fucking idiot. Trust him to screw up something that worked by freaking out and getting possessive over his not-even-a-real-boyfriend. Cause He didn’t like the way people kept hitting on Steve. He sure as hell didn’t like the way Brock had been flexing and posing and he didn’t like that suddenly it was very obvious  ** _why_**.

Shit, he’d been so fucking stupid – and Steve had been the one who flat out told him that Bucky wasn’t his type. Steve was the one who had been against the whole ‘fake’ thing from the start, and Bucky had railroaded him into it.

And how fucking stupid did it make him? The fact that he was the one getting jealous? The fact that he was the one that was going to end up fucking hurt. That wasn’t the plan. Shit, the plan had been a great plan.

“God, I thought he was gonna bust out of that t-shirt if he flexed one more time.” Steve said, once they were out of the crowded house and standing in the front yard, shoulders almost touching, arms at their sides. Normall Bucky would throw an arm around Steve’s shoulders, but now it seemed… weird. There were a few people outside, because Tony had probably invited the whole mall, but it was a lot less oppressive outside. He sounded a little strained, like he’d picked up on Bucky’s stupid importune realisation. Fuck. He didn’t want Steve to feel awkward.

“Man, tell me about it.” He grinned, maybe a bit too manically. “You think they’ve got a hiring manifesto that says you gotta look like you could bench press a truck if you wanna work there?”

Steve laughed. Bucky liked being the one that made Steve laugh, he noticed. He liked how the sound would brighten up his day, like he was some fucking love-sick teenager. Hell, the high school girls who swooned over the counter probably had more game than he did. “Yeah, I bet they’ve got weights in the back.” Steve pointed out. “And a wall of snapbacks for every occasion.”

“The formal snapback.” Bucky joked, “For those corporate meetings.”

Steve laughed again, sounding a little less like he wanted to bolt. “The smell of Axe in the back must be suffocating.”

“Every 14 year old boys wet dream.” Bucky grinned, “Snaps and Axe.” He got an elbow to the gut and a good natured snort of laughter for that, and for a moment, it all seemed to be going okay. “You wanna bounce?”

“Sure.” Steve agreed. “It’s not my thing here, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

Steve had been to Buckys apartment more than a few times in the two months they’d been ‘fake dating’ – normally to watch TV and eat pizza while Bucky either sorted out his laundry or cleaned his apartment. It wasn’t like they snuggled up on the couch or anything – so when they got inside and Bucky headed into the kitchen, Steve didn’t think twice about grabbing the remote and throwing himself on the couch with a huff.

“Dog Cops or,” He flipped through some channels at random. “Some documentary about the war?”

Bucky’s reply was a snort as he walked back through, two beers in his hand, handing one to Steve. “You know I’ve got Netflix, man. We don’t have to watch this shit.”

“Please, you love Dog Cops.”

“Everyone loves Dog Cops.” Bucky shot back, before settling into the other side of the couch. “It’s  ** _dogs_**. That are  ** _cops_**.”

“Hmmm.” Steve agreed, kicking off his shoes to get a bit more comfortable. Buckys couch wasn’t as comfortable as his, but his TV was bigger, so it all evened out in the end. Because the whole thing felt so familiar, it was easy for him to ignore the earlier panic over his feelings for Bucky. He was probably over-reacting anyway, he thought, glancing over at the other man, who was taking a swig of his beer, throat working as he swallowed. Steve was probably just a bit stressed from the party. His eyes drifted over Bucky’s body, taking in the firmness of his abs in his shirt (he did crunches before work, he’d told Steve once) and the way his thighs looked in those jeans, and blinked. Yeah, totally just the stress of the party. He certainly wasn’t thinking about how it would feel to get his hands all over that firm body, to find out what it would feel like to have Bucky pinning him down… the taste of his mouth…

He looked up at Bucky, only to find the other man was looking right at him. Steve snapped his head towards the screen, face flushing at having been caught blatantly checking Bucky out. That wasn’t cool.

 

* * *

 

Holy shit.

Steve had totally been checking him out. Bucky wasn’t a fucking idiot, he knew when someone was eyeing him up, and Steve was most definitely checking him out. And going on the blush that was working its way over his face, he hadn’t wanted Bucky to notice.

“Hey, you know what?” He said, taking another drink of his beer. He wouldn’t have minded being a little more buzzed, just so he’d have an excuse if everything went wrong, but fuck it – they could both be fucknig skirting around the same issue for another 2 months, and Bucky wasn’t into that.

“Hmm?” Steve said, not taking his eyes off the TV. Bucky was pretty sure the advertisement about vitamins for the over 80’s wasn’t what was keeping his attention firmly fixed.

“I was thinking, you know, this whole fake boyfriend thing’s worked pretty good, huh?”

“Sure.” Steve said, eyes on the TV. His blush had hit his ears, they were burning red. “Yeah.”

“You ever think maybe we’re not just faking it though?” He asked, looking at the TV. “I mean, we go out once a week for something to eat or a movie or whatever, every other night you’re here, or I’m at yours…” He could see the way Steve was clutching at his beer, knuckles going white under the stress. “Pretty much the only thing we  ** _aint_**  doing is making out.”

“I guess.”

“You wanna see if it feels weird?”

 

* * *

 

It didn't feel weird.

 

* * *

 

“You guys ditched pretty quick last night.” Tony said, as Steve ate his hotdog and Bucky served another gaggle of teenage girls. There was a hicky just under the collar of his shirt, and although Steve knew the girls couldn’t see it, the idea that they  ** _might_**  made him feel weirdly smug.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Steve said, mouth full.

“You don’t sound sorry.” Tony pointed out. “You sound completely unconcerned.”

“Hmm?” Steve managed, trying to stop the onions from falling off the bun and landing on his own uniform. “No, uh, sorry. Headache.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tony snorted. “Had nothing to do with your boy looking at you like he was gonna suck our soul out through your-”

“What the hell you want, Stark?” Bucky cut in. The girls weren’t quite gone, hanging around at the edge of the counter and looking at Bucky through their eyelashes. They giggled when Bucky swore, nudging each other as they tried to listen in.

“Just wondering where you and the boy wonder snuck off to last night.” Tony shrugged. “People tend not to leave my parties early. It’s a point of personal pride.”

“We had plans.”

“Yeah? Those plans involve bad touching one another?”

“Yeah.” Bucky shot back. “It did.”

“TMI, dude.” Stark said, holding up his hands to stop Bucky from talking.

Steve wiped his fingers on the paper napkin and shrugged. “You’re the one who asked.”

“Yeah, but you guys have been strictly PG – no sucking face in the loading bays or quickies in the basement. I’d know. There are cameras. I figured you were faking it for some unknown reason.”

“Nope.” Steve shot back. Maybe a little too quick, because Tony turned to look at him, eyes calculating.

“Firstly, the camera thing is creepy. Secondly, if I wanna leave a party early to screw my boyfriend, I can.” Bucky said, sounding amused.

“Oh, really? So it just so happened that the two most hopeless stick-in-the-muds in this place, the two guys who’ve managed to screw up every date they were ever sent on, just magically found one another? That’s what you’re trying to tell me?” He looked at Steve and smirked. “You’ve managed to fool everyone else in this place, but I know. I  ** _know_**.”

Bucky snorted. “This look like a fake relationship to you, buddy?” He grinned, lifting up his shirt. Steve remembered leaving the hickie, but he certainly didn’t remember holding onto Bucky’s hips so tight that there were slight finger shaped bruises on his hips. The girls (and Steve, he’ll admit) at the end of the counter dissolved into gasps and breathless giggles at the sight of Bucky’s abs.

Tony glared, pulling his sunglasses back on like a total douche, and walked away without acknowledging either of them – although Steve was pretty sure he could hear him muttering to himself ‘I was so sure!’ as he walked away.

“That wasn’t necessary.” Steve pointed out, taking a drink from the soda beside him.

“You loved it.”

“Still.” Steve shrugged, not even bothering to deny it. “You’ll be known as the guy that flashed the entire food court from now on.”

“I work at a Wiener Soldier, where the monthly special is a 12 inch with special sauce.” Bucky pointed out, eyebrows waggling comically. “They’re lucky my abs were  ** _all_**  I flashed.”

The girls at the end of the end of the counter dissolved into a heap of giggles, all of them blushing hard, although probably not as hard as Steve was.

“You’re a Jerk.” He managed.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky grinned, nodding as the girls finally left, sliding tips into the jar as they went. Steve saw a few phone numbers too – but couldn’t find it in himself to care.

After all, he had a few matching bruises of his own.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one - I've had a pretty hard time recently. However, everyone has been super supportive with these fics so it's only fair that you get another! :D
> 
> This is a 'fake/pretend relationship' added to my list of prompts because EVERYONE asked for one! I've never written one before so that was a bit of a change for me - I'm not sure if it's what you wanted, but I hope you like it!
> 
> Prompt: Friends of friends set us up + Fake relationship


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